


The Road Goes Ever On and On

by baranduin



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Prophetic Dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baranduin/pseuds/baranduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is taken from one of shirebound's shirebunnies though it diverged a bit. Or a lot :-) <i>Before Frodo ever left the Shire, he dreamed about “strange visions of mountains that he had never seen.” Write a scene where Frodo, looking up at Caradhras (or a different mountain, perhaps even in the Undying Lands), realizes where he’s seen it before. Does he begin to feel, as Galadriel said, that “perhaps the paths that you each shall tread are already laid before your feet”?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road Goes Ever On and On

_We shall not cease from exploration_  
And the end of all our exploring  
Will be to arrive where we started  
And know the place for the first time.  
~Little Gidding by T.S. Eliot   


Sometimes Frodo dreamed of mountains, of sharp peaks of black rock and white snow glinting in sunshine so bright that he had to close his eyes. He was drawn to them, but never with his whole heart. A part of him was always glad when he woke from one of these dreams, breathing hard with the bed sheets and blankets twisted tight round his legs.

But sometimes Frodo dreamed of gentler slopes clad in green grass and white paths winding up to broad crowns. He walked the well-tended paths, fine chalk dusting his feet and clear blue skies arching over his head, always looking up to where a building shone in the sun. He could never tell what the building was though he was sure it was always the same one. That in itself was a puzzlement to him because sometimes he saw nothing but old tumbled stones in broken arches and sometimes he saw solid walls, welcoming and strong. When he woke, he was always a little sad because he longed to dream his vision alive, but the details faded after a few minutes.

* * *

"There it is, Frodo! Can you see it?"

Bilbo stopped the cart with a soft word to the pony and a quick twitch on the reins. For a minute, he looked toward their destination and then turned to Frodo. He wanted to take in the lad's first sight of The Hill and Bag End.

He was not disappointed though he had to stifle a quick guffaw for he could tell Frodo was brimming over with emotion, slack jaw and all. 

"Welcome home, my boy," he said and picked up the reins again. 

"It's just like I dreamed it would be," Frodo said quietly.

Bilbo reached over and patted Frodo's hand. "May all your journeys end so well," he said. "Though on second thought, a surprise or two along the way is never a bad thing, is it?"

* * *

There was a doorway in the side of Orodruin, something that had been built and fashioned of stone and now gaped in front of Frodo in a broken arch. 

"Could there ever have been anything green here?" Frodo had time for that one fleeting thought, some brief memory of a dream that now seemed to belong to a separate self. 

And then there was time only for walking forward step by step on torn and bleeding feet.

* * *

It was evening when they rode up Tower Hill, their horses and ponies stamping and snorting, no doubt wanting their dinner after the long (if leisurely) day's ride. The sky was an intense violet blue that made the tower's whiteness even brighter than when they'd first seen it at a distance by light of day.

The company dismounted just below the hill's summit and continued on foot, walking a path of short green turf bordered with small white flowers. Sam chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip and kept his eyes on the tower.

"What is it, Sam?" Frodo finally asked, smiling faintly.

"It's got a shine to it," Sam said. "Don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it."

Frodo stopped before the tall arched door that led into the tower. The others of the company had gone before them, even Bilbo. Only he and Sam now stayed outside. 

Finally, Frodo sighed and made ready to enter. 

"Neither have I, Sam. Neither have I."

* * *

There was no sound but huffing and puffing as the two hobbits climbed the steep green hill. They kept their heads down, eyes on the white path, until the slope flattened when they reached the crest.

They stood in the shade of the hill's white tower for a long time, catching their breath and looking to the east. The sky was clean and blue without even one cloud to mar its clarity. The sea was calm; the ships far below bobbed gently in Avallónë's harbor. Overhead a white gull circled, crying a greeting or a farewell or perhaps just a shout of joy.

"What a view, Mr. Frodo!" Sam said. "If I look long enough, I reckon I might even catch a glimpse of the Shire. The air is that clean here."

But Frodo wasn't looking at the view any longer. He was looking into Sam's eyes. "I can see it fine right now."


End file.
